


Kate's story

by Lionessinthedark



Series: An angel and a demon and the real reality [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Metafiction, Port Talbot, The gospel of us, The passion of port talbot - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 17:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21201071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionessinthedark/pseuds/Lionessinthedark
Summary: Here is Kate's story. Her experience of what happened In Port Talbot that Easter 2011 and the year after. What she saw and how Niaphael might have interfered a bit, when he was visiting. Which might explain some of the a bit weird things happening.I have used these videos on youtube mentioned in the notes below. Because I wasn't there and I don't know anything about Port Talbot. So please forgive me for my mistakes.This is totally fiction. Please understand that. I am sure it is not the way it happened. I think that Owen Sheers and Michael Sheen were the first two to meet and they had talked a lot, before the others became a part of it. And it had been a wish of Michael Sheen’s to do a passion play for a long time. So this is just fantasy and connects to the story about the real angel Niaphael and the real demon Zoley, who told their story to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman





	1. Easter 2011 - The Gospel of us

Hi – my name is Katherine – or Kat or Katy. I have the same name as my grandmother, who still lives in Port Talbot. And she is the reason why I had an extraordinary experience – well - had the chance of partaking in an extraordinary event last Easter and now - a year after, where I am returning to Port Talbot to see the film. Not the film about the event – because there have been documentaries – but a film with almost the same story and the story told at Easter 2011 and which involved almost the whole town of Port Talbot – at least 10.000 people or more – in Port Talbot and on the internet - and still has an impact. ‘The Gospel of us’. A 72 hour long performance of street theatre. Involving so many people. And I was there! And there is even more to tell about that..

But maybe I should start somewhere else – so not about me, but about my grandmother:

My grandmother is an extraordinary woman. Very talented and intelligent, but as many of her generation – both men and women, she never got the chance of getting a long school-education. Port Talbot has always been a town of working people and as she left school, she started working at the steel industry, like so many others in Port Talbot.

She was bright and got a chance for an education later, even if she started out as a office-girl, doing whatever was needed, in one of the big steel-companies. She had met my grandfather when she was 18 and she got pregnant – and they married and lived in two small rooms in one of the houses near the beach. Then she got a chance to educate herself and she ended up being a secretary. My grandfather did earn relatively well too, so they managed to buy a house. They lost their little boy, when he was only 3 months old and my grandmother would sometimes teasingly say to my grandfather that she married him in vain. And then she would kiss him and smile.

They had my mother a few years after, when they had become more financial stable and had their own house and then they had a boy and a girl, my uncle and aunt. My mother was intelligent too and there were better possibilities when she was young, so she got a good education and fled Port Talbot and moved to London as fast as she could. Her brother and sister stayed in Port Talbot, though. Sometimes it is the eldest in a group of siblings, who is the most adventurous, right?

In London she got a good job in the financial sector, met a man – got me - and right after that, she got a divorce. Since I never got any siblings, I did spend all my holidays at my grandparent’s in Port Talbot. There were cousins and relatives and uncles and aunts – even if they technically weren’t my uncles and aunts – and I wasn’t really a stranger – ‘a Londoner’, because I had kept my Welsh tilt and could swear as good as my cousins and relatives – in Welsh. Our language had been suppressed - had been that in my grandparent’s childhood and my mother’s, but things were opening up and it was more accepted to use Welsh words now.

When I was 6, my mother got a big chance for promotion, but she turned it down, because she would have to live in New York for three years. My grandmother told her that she should go.

“Katy can stay with us.”, she said and I did.

It wasn’t that difficult to live in Port Talbot and go to school there – I was sort of ‘one of their own’ and if anyone should forget that, you know, children can be mean – then I had a whole family to support me. I was just ‘one of them Sheen-kids’ – and yes – we share the same surname as the actor Michael Sheen, who my grandmother is a keen fan of.

I lived there for three years, went to school, had almost siblings in my cousins, who lived nearby and participated in sports and I sang in choirs – something my grandmother insisted on, when she found out that I had inherited her talent for singing. Not that she is a female Paul Potts or a Susan Boyle – but she is close.

No – that wasn’t the difficult part. The difficult part was to return to London to live with my mother – alone, no cousins, no grandparents. Of course I had missed my mother and London can offer so much more – if you have money. But I missed Port Talbot.

Children are very good at adapting, so I coped and as I grew a bit older, I really enjoyed all the things London can offer: theatre, musicals, museums, cultural events and shopping.

And I missed the one thing that London couldn’t offer, but Port Talbot could: a place to belong – a large family.

But I kept returning to Port Talbot every holiday – more often than my mother. I had a special bond to my grandparents. Mostly to my grandmother.

And then time went by. I got older. I still kept on singing in choirs even in London. I loved it, but never planned on going solo.

In 2011 I was studying anthropology at University College London and was working part time at a scientific magazine – something a bit like National Geographic, just a lot smaller and I was collecting data for my Master’s degree – about the cohesive force in smaller communities contra bigger communities, and then my grandmother called me and said I should come and visit Port Talbot for several reasons: one – she missed me and two – something was brewing in Port Talbot and had for a while. A big event involving a lot of people from Port Talbot. Something that could provide data for my degree, she said.

And she explained more: it would be a 72 hours non-stop street- and landscape-theatre, involving a lot of local people and prompted by National Theatre Wales. Michael Sheen was commissioned by NTW to create a piece of work as the climax to the company’s first-year programme.

A modern passion play – but more about Port Talbot than anything else.

I said it sounded interesting and asked if she could tell more?

Well - there would be made documentaries as well - and a film. But the film would not interfere with the main goal – to make this once in a lifetime live-performance involving a whole town – nothing like that had ever been done before.

They had contacted Michael Sheen and asked him if he would do it and a Bill Mitchell from a company called WildWorks, who specialised in street- and landscape-theatre would work on the project too. An author – Owen Sheers. A woman Adele Thomas, who had worked at the project for more than a year and who was the coordinator on the project. She was the one who had been in contact with the locals from the beginning.

“I think by now, we are over 1000 people – local people – involved directly.”, my grandma said proudly, “There is a homepage – and young people are writing on it – it is called ‘blogging’, I think (I smiled) and there have been posters – you know – the main character – Michael – ‘The Teacher’ has been missing since the 13th of March and…

“Hopefully not for real..”

She laughed, “No. I think I saw him yesterday. No but in the sort of parallel reality, you see. There have been posters all over the town since the 13th of March. We have been told a bit of this other reality, but not much. Those involved – us – we know of course the main back-ground-story. But I think there will be surprises for us too.”

She told me that a lot of other people were involved – professionals. They had already worked on it for a long time now, some for about a year, and as Easter came nearer everybody were working so hard to make it a success. And now she asked me if I wanted to participate.

I said that I couldn’t – there were only 3 weeks before Easter would come and how could I be a part of something that had been prepared for months? Years?

My grandmother just calmly said that I could just watch and I could sing in one of the choirs if I wanted.

“You do know the song anyway – or the songs. You have sung them before. I have asked – it is allright. You are one of us.” And then she laughed a bit, “There are amateur actors, professional actors with scripts – our local rugby team are now trained security guys with – thank god – props – not real guns. Port Talbot have sewn and painted and collected memories and we have all participated. I didn’t even know we had a circus group for young people – and they are so skilled. And we have a group of Bell players. I didn’t know that either. Come, Katy – it is going to be so great. And we do have great internet connection here too – even in our house. So you can just as easily work here, can’t you?

Well – I decided to listen to her – and I am so glad I did.

So I packed my things and drove from London to Port Talbot and rang the doorbell on their house about 5 hours later.

The next day I went with her to the rehearsal. She had several roles: She should sing at the beach (“It is a bit of a secret, dear – but it is beginning awfully early on Good Friday morning at dawn”), she should be a general follower – (“Something about us sitting by the river and listening to The Teacher, you know”) and she would have a part in something she wouldn’t tell about, but would be in the Shopping Mall on Easter Sunday. And she should be a part of the parade.

“We can’t tell everything beforehand, dear. It would ruin the feeling of it happening for real.”

And we went together to one of the choir rehearsals. At the rehearsal someone got a bit confused, because my grandmother’s name would appear twice on the list.

The leader of the choir went over to my grandmother to find out why, and laughed as she found out why, “Doesn’t this give troubles at Christmas?”, she laughed and my grandmother said that I would normally be written as ‘Katy’ – and my name was corrected on the list.

And I studied and interviewed people and made notes. I followed the blogs on the internet – and my grandmother was right. This was a unique event – and so much more than the sum of every little single contribution. So much more.

I even spoke to Michael Sheen. He had been told about the lady with the two names – and of course he knew about other ‘Sheens’ in Port Talbot.

We joked a bit about it and I asked a bit worried if it was all right that I participated? After all I was living in London and....

“And I live in LA”, he said.

“Well – at least I was born here and lived here for more than three years, when my mother was away, if that counts.”

And then he took his time to listen to my story. He asked me what my best memory was and I said it was flying with kites on the beach – all too well knowing that is was important to look out for the tide.

“There was this mix of pure joy – and the underlying current of it being a little bit dangerous, and that we couldn’t let us totally consume by this joy or it could get dangerous, if we weren’t careful and watched our steps.”, I said.

And he smiled with his warm smile, “A bit like life itself, innit?”

That man – so busy – being the director, central character and the prime influence for this amazing coming event – and he took his time to listen to me. He listened to my story. Somehow the lines between reality and fiction got a bit blurred – and it would not be the last time that Easter. And I could easily see why my grandmother was such a huge fan of him. He was truly charismatic.

Then we reached Palm Sunday. The final rehearsals took place. Michael’s pep-talk to all of us locals involved - and the final rehearsal of the scene with Gethsemane garden– on the top of a dumpster. And ‘God’ being the roofer. Looking over the town from high above. It was brilliantly made.

Michael Sheen’s strong voice shouting ‘I am’ before he was dragged away by the police, it was moving. His voice was aided a bit by wireless microphones – they were on all key-actors. Mostly because of the film being made – but it turned out to be a good thing the next many hours. No one had expected that more than 15.000 people would be in Port Talbot on Easter Sunday for the final scenes and the actors would have been hoarse if they should have shouted that much. Now the voices were carried to so many more spectators by the hidden loudspeakers. And even knowing that a film was made at the same time, we didn’t really see the cameras. They were hidden in peoples’ houses and in bushes and carried discreetly by camera-men. The only exception was the scene at the beach early Friday morning. They were a bit too visible there – the cameras.

My grandmother had woken me up – it was still dark and we went down to the beach that Friday morning. Nothing about this had been announced officially. Just on the blog – and the people involved knew of course too.

Michael came down to the beach and knelt down. We were singing. I was standing in the cold water, but I somehow forgot it. He undressed and walked through the water to ‘The Stranger’ – and was baptised – in a bit crueller way than described in the Bible.

It was moving and touching and felt somehow real....and that feeling of having entered a parallel reality somehow stayed with us that Easter. Normally you can have such a feeling inside a theatre as well – if there are good actors. Then they are not ‘acting’ their roles – even if you can buy that for a moment – but the brilliant actors – like Michael Sheen – they_ become_ their roles. You believe them. This feeling stays as long as you are inside the theatre – but this time we couldn’t ‘leave the theatre’ – the whole town was a stage.

A funny thing: I took part in the scene on the river bank, where we shared – I think it was about 6 sandwiches. We were more than 60 people and each of us got a tiny bite and now the funny thing: I had breakfast rather early. Around 5 AM. And that was that. Lunch time had passed and I was getting a bit hungry, and then I got that bite of a sandwich. And do you know what? I wasn’t hungry again before late into the evening. I wonder if Michael performed a real miracle there – even if we were not 5000 people.

And as Friday passed and Saturday passed and the climax Sunday night – Michael was not ‘Michael Sheen - the Hollywood actor’ – but he was ‘The Teacher’ – soft spoken and yet so strong – and his walk on ‘Via Dolorosa’ and the crucifixion-scene became disturbingly real.

A lot of us thought his collapse to be real – at least the 2nd one and the 3rd. Of course we knew that he hadn’t been beaten for real. And that it was fake blood – but disturbingly real-looking - on his face and clothes. And I knew that the scene with the Security Team beating him up in the Shopping Centre had been filmed previously, I think it must have been Monday.

But somehow we doubted. The look on his face – the way he moved. It felt so real. And we almost hated the Security Team and the soldiers.

Michael had warned ‘the villains’: the Company Man, the Mayor and most of all the soldiers and the Security Team. The professional actors – the Security Chief and others – they knew of course and didn’t need the warning, but Michael had warned the others, “People are going to hate you – don’t interact. Stay in character. Don’t let yourself be provoked and if you need help – then find the real police officers in the crowd. Keep a low profile.” 

Bill Mitchell had this advice too – he had experienced it before, “Stay at home – don’t mingle with people between the scenes. Stay away. You are in character – if you want to see anything, disguise yourself. We don’t know how many people who are going to be here - and you provoke strong feelings in the crowd. And just a good advice – at the end-scene. Get rid of your gear as fast as possible. Preferably while people are looking at the cross with Michael on it. Or right after – when they are taking him down. People will be looking at that. Just disappear. Take of your helmets and sunglasses and the uniform. Hide the weapons. Become civilians again.”

And they had made sure there were lorries where they could get rid of their gear. Bill Mitchell had told how things had gone out of control at one event, he had been a part of. He had no wish to see it repeated.

It worked. As soon as the projector was on Michael and Michael had thrown the hood back and revealed that he was alive and had shouted, “It has begun” – he had the crowd of about 10.000 people in the palm of his hand.

And they roared and cheered – and that was the turning point. He could have made them trash the town with single sentence.

But he just stood there smiling and waited a bit – he was given a microphone – to show somehow that this was real. He took of the cape, gave it to the man, who had played ‘The Stranger’ – Nigel Barrett - he was standing beside him now - with the words, “Here, it is yours and it stinks of fish!” and people laughed.

Michael was given the blue hoodie back, gave the microphone away again and dressed himself in the hoodie. Those close to him could see that he winced a bit and then he just stood there. With a shredded vest hanging down over his trousers and smiling that 100.000 Watt smile of his.

He didn’t say anything just smiled and then he lifted both his hands and cheered, “We made it! Thank you so much all of you for your heroic effort. We all managed – with a joint effort – to put Port Talbot on the map – and made something that no one else has done before!” – He was again connected to the microphone at the foot of the cross. The one who had caught his ‘I remember..’ as he was hanging there.

And people cheered and then he got the microphone again and just calmly said, “I don’t know about you, but I am tired. But you can keep on celebrating yourself and us and Port Talbot. And please – please remember that our ‘soldiers’...”

And they all came forward and stood in front of the podium and the empty cross – now dressed in civilian clothes and they all made a bow.

“...and the ‘Security Team’, our ‘police-officers’ and even the ‘Security Chief’...”, said Michael.

They all came forward too and stood there, holding each other's hands and made a bow.

“...’the Company Man’ and ‘the Mayor’ – and all the other ‘villains’. They were just acting – and ‘no animals were harmed in the making of this film’! That’s me – I am fine. Thank you. Thank you all.”

And then he turned around and left. I could see that he was brought to an ambulance and I was a bit worried and I went nearer. But he was just sitting there, in the back of the ambulance with a blanket around his shoulders - smiling. So nothing serious.

Monday evening we all – the participants - had a last gathering. Michael Sheen was standing at a microphone – looking a bit tired and said, “What a weekend it was. I think I can say it was the most extraordinary weekend of my life. It was your passion. It was our passion. And we made this happening together. No one has ever done that before. Never has an entire town come together to tell the story about themselves. To itself. To be witnessed by the world. What happened was that we became more than ourselves. We became something so much bigger. At that is what community is about.”

And we all cheered.


	2. A year after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate returns to Port Talbot and get a chance to talk to the actor Michael Sheen and they talk about some of the things that happened at Easter 2011. Not everything could be explained rationally.

And now I am back in Port Talbot again.

Going to visit my grandparents and family and going to watch the film ‘The passion of us’ in the Port Talbot Apollo. My grandmother bought tickets before they sold out – and hopefully I will get a few minutes talking to Michael Sheen – because I am her officially as a journalist, too.

____________________

And I got to meet him and no – I didn’t ask him what he thought about the film – if it gave the event in 2011 justice. Because seeing the film could never be the same as having been there. But I asked him if he could spend a few minutes and tell me how he felt afterwards and if he ever thought it could be possible again to make something similar.

And there he surprised me. He recognized me and accepted an invitation the next day to my grandmother’s house.

She was over the moon - as I told, she had been a huge fan of him since he played Tony Blair in The Deal and not to mention that yummy werewolf in Underworld and as an aristocrat in _Bright Young Things_.

So she had got up early to bake and was waiting with scones and all sorts of cakes and fresh-brewed tea as he arrived at 3 PM.

He recognized her too and gave her a hug and thanked her for participation in something that had been his dream as well and then we sat down and he actually began interviewing me.

What I thought about the film and what I had thought about being a participant last Easter. And if I had finished my degree?

I told that the film was a different experience on its own and that nothing could be compared to last Easter and that I had finished my degree - and that I wanted to make an interview with him – to the Magazine I worked at and then he wanted to know more about that.

And then I asked what had started this all – and who had brought up the idea of a Passion Play but set in modern times and somehow with Port Talbot crucified as well.

Michael smiled and gave me a bunch of papers and said, "Before I start telling about how I felt and what my experience was, I have the draft of the story, that Owen and I made together. It is incomplete and it might be changed a lot before the book comes out. Please - just read it - and don't publish it in any way. But it tells the story about 'The Teacher' without being interfered with the real reality."

I promised of course to keep it a secret.

_(It will be in part 3 of this series, if you want to read it. it is totally my own version of it - (authors note))_

And then he just began to talk – well knowing that I did record our conversation.

He told that he had been contacted more than 3 years ago by the Welsh National Theatre and asked if he would make something in Port Talbot – his hometown - in cooperation with others? They had a vague idea, but wanted him to participate in a group, most consisting of an author, coordinators and a Bill Mitchell, a pioneer in ‘landscape-theatre’ – where theater was made with an for communities. Telling stories from present or past - and some people from Port Talbot, too.

“I was enthusiastic and we had the first brainstorming over 3 years ago. Two years before we launched it all at Easter 2011. And Easter wasn’t really the first time of year thought about for the event. We had something closer to summer in mind. But as you know with brainstorming – no one can really remember who said what and when. So…We were sitting there and were telling each other stories from Port Talbot and I had an idea, but I didn’t want to be ‘Mister-Michael-coming-from-Hollywood-and-deciding-everything-Sheen, so I just listened as we all talked about which story that could be the foundation for this joint event. We had the frames – sort of – but not the story – yet. We just wanted it to be about Port Talbot. Someone mentioned the Steel-works and others the limitations in transport – isolating Port Talbot and someone mentioned that the big companies always promised so much but gave so little in return and then someone mentioned the Motorway and said ‘they promised – so my grandparents told me – wealth and prosperity for the town and all that happened was that people just passes over us – on the road in the sky – as they called it. A Passover – that is what that motorway is.”

Michael smiled and continued, “One person had zoomed out a bit and asked, “Why are you talking about Easter – ‘Passover’ - I thought it should be in the summer?”

And then it clicked in my head and I said, “A big multinational company is abusing Port Talbot in a sort of parallel universe and wants to destroy the town – kill it? Crucify it? Around Easter?”

And one of the locals said, “A passion play – like in Margam Park – they stopped in 1999 I think – a lot of people worked together – we could do something like that again.”

And there it was – the bones of the story. Owen caught it and we began to write down ideas on ‘post its’ and sticking the story together. One of the main things was that it should be about the town – its memories and take place all over the town and local groups should be an integral part of it. Someone had written down: ‘Jesus – Rabbi – Teacher’ – and there was our lead character – ‘The Teacher’. At a point Owen had gone into another room and had been writing a bit down and then he returned and smiled at me and asked, “What would you say if we wanted to crucify you, Michael?” – And there it was. This story about a man, a teacher, who lost his memory and became a tool for more divine powers in order to save the town. A modern passion play.”

Michael smiled and then he continued to talk about the work done – how they had visited Port Talbot rather early to pin point the locations for the important places in the first drafts of the manuscript and how they had begun to contact local people: actors, musicians, artists – all sorts and how Adele Thomas had made that herculean task of connection it all together, feeding him and Owen with the material to the manuscript, based on local stories.

“We had the outline of the ‘skeleton’. She helped collecting the flesh.”

He told how he had been keen to get as many people involved as possible, so they made workshops with different community groups, as they worked on their story.

He smiled, “And we made it! An one-time event – but several stories grew from that. The film – we did film extra bits and bobs to make it fit. Dave McKean had some ideas and Owen had his draft of a manuscript ready as well. He actually made two things at the same time – impressive! And then Owen’s novelization. He actually wrote it down shortly after Easter 2011. The blogs. And then people’s own videos and finally this exhibition now, with people’s memories. All the people working so hard to make it a success: bands playing, choirs singing, carpenters making the two crosses, people weaving, sewing, mending, rehearsing. All those volunteers making it possible to make light and sound – especially at the end scene. It was so amazing and it really did put Port Talbot on the map.”

Now my grandmother said, “And it continues to grow. We have talked about making – not a passion play – but out-door theatre this summer – and a market. Vi didn’t know we had that many resources.”

Michael smiled and said, “I’ll have to keep an eye on that.”

Now it was my turn again and I told how I had felt that we somehow had entered an alternative reality. “Your suffering seemed so real and we really hated the Security Team”, I said.

\- and Michael nodded and said, “There were a few times where I felt that too – that other reality - and other mentioned that, too. People mentioned that they weren’t hungry after my stunt with the shared sandwiches – which was a bit odd. We hadn’t expected so many to follow me along the river, so a lot of what happened there was improvised. And then - I was really genuinely scared at the Garden on the dumpster. Had a moment of doubt, if I could do it the next day. I would so much hate to fail. And then when I was questioned by the security Chief, I had the audience in the palm of my hand. I could have said, “Let’s trash this town” – and they would have followed me! It was a heady feeling – and a bit dangerous too. I think the amount of beer in people did help a bit, too.”

We laughed, but yes – he was right. He had been very charismatic right there – standing there in his white shirt. Powerful and brave.

“Then we were a bit worried about the whole Via Dolorosa part”, explained Michael. “We had decided to film the Beating in the Shopping Centre a few days before. I wore thin elbow padding under my shirt and on my knees too and we had rehearsed. It didn’t mean that I wasn’t a bit hurt, falling like that on the hard floor, but all the blood was fake and the barbed wire crown was so loosely made, that my thick mane of hair protected me. I think I only got two tiny wounds because of those crowns. So what really happened after the ‘trial’ was that I was dragged inside – dressed in the nightdress and peignoir and that barbed-wire-crown was put on my head and then I was sprinkled with disturbingly real looking fake blood. Oh – and my microphone was removed. And then I was dragged outside again. The rest was acting.”

Michael was smiling, “But I had bruises. Real ones. I noticed that they could be seen on me, when I watched the film today. They were rather obvious. Some of the security guys had seen them too – that night - and they felt so guilty the next morning as we had a short meeting. And then there were the bruises from the straps on the cross as well. I was rather sore for weeks.”

Then he smiled and continued, “I was sitting there – in our rented house – tired and drinking coffee. I had slept like a child, but it was sort of an anti-climax – a bit like when Christmas is over – we had worked such a long time on this project and…..then it was over. A weird sort of empty feeling and on the other hand - uplifting – because we had made it! So – I was sitting there with my coffee and with my feet up and with unkempt hair, bags under my eyes and with bandages on my wrists and……”

I frowned, and asked, “Why bandages?”

Michael rose and stood with his arms lifted – as if he was on the cross again, “We had to find a way for me to be crucified without actual nails through my wrists and feet. That was the easiest part. We went to Oberammergau to watch the Passion Play and to be allowed back stage and ‘Jesus’ – well one of the ‘Jesuses’ – there were actually 3 of them, so they could take turns and if one of them should get ill. It does put a strain on the body, hanging there despite all their ‘cheating’ – well he showed me the nails. They have a U-shape where the wrists sort of hang. That the ‘U’ goes around the wrist and is hidden by a bit of fake blood. The greatest danger is actually being hit by the hammer. We had made tiny holes in the cross beforehand, so the nails went easily in. Not in me – in the cross. In Oberammergau they had some flat nails so he could support his feet on them – and again a bigger U-shape so the nail ‘going through the feet’ actually went around the feet. And then he was wearing a harness under his loin-cloth. It was hooked onto a support behind him on the cross. Like that the weight of his body would not be carried by his arms and his feet. Some other Passion Plays have people sitting on small bicycle saddles or they are actually standing on a horizontal platform under their feet. I was wearing a harness too. I only had a few minutes to get into it. I couldn’t wear it while I was carrying the cross. It would have chafed.”

Now he smiled, “We just had to be careful as I carried the smaller crucifix behind the podium, kicked of my boots, stripped out of my trousers, was given the harness on and was dressed in my trousers again – And in the meantime, people were busy watching the bigger cross being attached to the podium. It was such an amazing work of a teamwork which made all that possible – but we had to be very careful that the harness was placed correctly – or it would have been real cries of agony, when the cross was raised.”

And there he smiled, and my grandmother did blush a bit as she first said, “What…..?” And then “….oh!”, as she understood.

Michael sat down again with a tiny smirk and explained further, “We found another solution. We wanted – I wanted - the dramatic effect of me sagging down, when I died. So…the harness-attachment to the cross was a bit loose on purpose. It would support me totally when I sagged down, but until then I had to support myself a bit on the nails around my feet and wrists, and on the straps around my arms, that prevented me from tipping forward. What we hadn’t accounted for at the rehearsal, where we had only done bits and pieces, but never the whole thing in one take, was how much the walk with the prop-cross – smaller than the real one, but still heavy as fuck, had tired me out, despite our brilliant idea to give me a break at the Shopping Centre and by that make sure that the dramatic end of the Passion Play would be in the dark, around 9 PM, too. So some of my staggering was a bit too real. And at a point I had to be standing in the rather warm sun, carrying the cross and waiting for the parade to be ready. I had a safe word, but I’ll be dammed if I used it! There were people keeping an eye on me in the crowds and at one point, after I had collapsed the 3rd time – and it wasn’t acting, I really sort of fainted and collapsed – some guy – I don’t even think he was one of the actors – he was older than me and dressed a bit funny – and he gave me some water from a bottle and whispered, “You are doing an excellent job, young man. I almost believed it to be real at some point.” And after that I was allright again. But – what we hadn’t thought about at the rehearsals was how much the cross-carrying would tire me out.”

Michael paused and then he looked at my grandmother and me, “Talking about feeling outside reality – when I was standing there near the beach – in my trousers and my shredded vest and was taken to the bigger cross, you could see in the film how exhausted I was – and it wasn’t totally just acting. I was tired. And I looked so tired that the guys, playing my tormentors, whispered to me, “Are you OK, Michael?” I whispered back, “Just acting.” And they continued ‘crucifying’ me. But lying down on that cross and voluntarily moving my arms so they could put the nails through the cross, but thankfully not through me – I had a strange feeling. I knew that the nails were fake – shaped so I would not be harmed. But I still had a pang of fear. I would still be attached to that cross. That was real – and I would be vulnerable. I wouldn’t be able to do anything but hanging there.”

Michael paused and then he took a sip of tea and continued, “ – and then I just became ‘The Teacher’ and just accepted what was going to happen. I surrendered myself. I did remember to scream my lungs out, even if it didn’t hurt – not much anyway and then they took of my boots and socks and did hide for the cameras what they actually were doing – and I made sure to scream again. I had again a moment of fear, ass the cross was raised. I had told them that I feared that it would topple forward and make me hit the ground face down, so they had secured it even more that during rehearsal. There were medics watching me as I was hanging on the cross. Looking for signs of hypothermia – a real risk, as I was partially naked, exhausted - and the water from the water-screen would hit me and cool me further down. Well – the chafing: when I sagged further down as I ‘died’, my wrists got chafed and bled a little. The black straps did chafe my arms a bit too. I had bruises on them for days! Nothing too awful – I did heal – and sometimes you have to suffer for the art. It wasn’t that difficult to ‘play dead’ – I was lightheaded and exhausted and drained, but I had to be OK for the resurrection.”

Michael smiled and then he continued, “Well the next morning I was sitting there, with my feet up, in the kitchen of our rented house, dressed in a housecoat and my pyjamas and some of the Security guys came in and saw me and went over to me – were just standing there and looked at me and one of them said, _“Our_ _humblest apology offered, mister Sheen._” I then pointed at the coffee maker and had said, “_Grab some mugs – and why an apology? – And it is ‘Michael’.._” They sat down with the mugs and one of them explained, “_We talked about it and we couldn’t help noticing – at the beach – how bruised you were. It was our fault. We hurt you – for real._”I reached my hand out and touched the nearest guy’s hand and explained, “_We rehearsed, I was protected, and I__ wasn’t really harmed. Yes, a few bruises, I know. But nothing compared to what the beating looked like. What happened to me – it just happens. An acting risk. It is not the first time, I have been injured a tiny bit._

I had smiled and had pointed at my wrists and my neck, and had told them that playing that werewolf and being in chains – it chafed too – even if they were made of rubber. It is an occupational risk. And I had told them not to feel so bad about it. And said they could buy me the next beer and we would be even.”

Michael shook his head, “They had something more on their heart, which they wanted to tell. One of them explained, “_We all talked about it, after you were alive again, before we went home. You had told us how the Roman soldiers must have felt – as a unit, with the best weapons available at that time. United and with the righteousness of the power from the government behind them. And we always said that we could never understand how normal people – like the Germans during the Second World War – could become tormentors – executioners – like in the KZ-camps or like in Spain like in that book and film, you know “Your Neighbor's Son: The Making of a Torturer. But…it happened to us. We sort of became our roles. We almost hated the people, who were obstacles to what we were doing. Almost felt that you deserved what happened to you. The power of the weapons and of being on the right side of them – it was such an intense feeling. We became genuine gold-plated 100% assholes – and it scared us.”_

Michael smiled and explained further, “We talked a bit more about it and they said that the way it ended and how they stripped their armor and uniforms away and became themselves again, before the play had totally ended – it was such a brilliant idea.”

Then Michael looked out of the window and said, “It was hard – those 72 hours – or actually a bit more, as we began on Good Friday morning before dawn, but I don’t regret one second of it. We made mistakes and…”

Here he laughed and looked a bit embarrassed, “….and it was rather so much out of character that I had to take a break, leave the cross to somebody else to hold and go and visit the loo. That was somehow a bigger problem, than the chafing of my shoulders. And the only time I used my safe-word. I don’t think many noticed – and I am glad it wasn’t in the film.”

We both nodded and told that we hadn’t actually noticed – just that there was a break and we thought - both of us – that it was to give him some rest. After all – he had just fallen – and we didn’t know if it was for real or not.

Michael shook his head, “No – my persistent bladder was a bigger problem than falling. And I carried on – literally – and then I fell again, and this time it wasn’t acting. My vision blurred and I fell – and that was the point where that guy gave me some water and I could continue.”

There was a pause, where he drank some tea again and then he continued, “There was a few times, where reality got a bit blurred during those days. After the scene with the bomber, as I was walking away from the beach, I was being genuinely annoyed at all those spectators sticking their phones almost up in my face to film me. Especially one guy was getting awfully close. I improvised and made it a bit into ‘Jesus in the Temple’-situation and I asked him why he was filming me – and suggested it would be better just to be in the moment. Enjoy it. He said that he filmed me because I was interesting. I suggested that he should follow me if he found me interesting, and then just be with me, but not witness everything through a camera. If he didn’t find me interesting – or the whole situation, then he should just stop following me. And he just obeyed. The rest of the people with smart phones just obeyed too, put their phones away and followed me. I hadn’t expected that.”

Michael smiled, “At the riverbank, sharing those sandwiches. It was strange. People told me that that little bit of a sandwich did sate them. Another incident was on the van outside the club, as I mentioned before and then of course when I was carrying the cross – I got into a strange mind-set. And even later as I was hanging there on the cross – I felt a strange strength. If the strain got too much, I could always bend my knees a bit more and sag down, so the harness would carry my weight, but I would so much like it to first be at the end. And somehow I found the strength to just support myself without the harness. We had rehearsed – and made sure that I could speak all the ‘I remember-stuff’ – it was so important. We had actually recorded it beforehand, so we had a plan B, if it got too much for me. But I was all right and had strength enough to do it. There was an even bigger risk as I was ‘dead’ and just hanging there – and the water from the water-screen behind me would hit me and cool me down. But it didn’t – not more than tolerable. And then of course at the end – when I wasn’t dead at all and just stood there, dressed in ‘The Stranger’s” cape. Right that moment I had everybody present on that beach in the palm of my hand.”

Michael smiled a bit embarrassed, “It was a heady feeling – I felt powerful for so many reasons: I had managed, we had managed and we were at the same time in a weird parallel reality. People would have done, whatever I had suggested.”

He sat there looking out of the window and then he looked at my grandmother and me and smiled, “And then I went to the ambulance to get a check. I felt a bit weird – like waking up from a dream. Light-headed. I was giving a bit of oxygen – just in case. My vitals were checked and my wrists bandaged, ointment applied on my bruises and then I was driven to our rented house and went out like a light and slept to the next morning….”

I nodded and said, “Michael Sheen, I have one more question – just out of curiosity – how did you disappear from the shroud? It looked like magic, because they had wrapped you in it….hadn’t they?”

He laughed, “It was actually easy – and we had help from a magician’s club here in Port Talbot. I didn’t even know we had one. They taught us about ‘distractions’ - make something spectacular happen in another direction, and you can get away with doing a lot in broad daylight – or in this case – in the dark. Well – I was lowered down on the blankets. It wasn’t easy to pretend to be dead, since I was lying a bit awkwardly on one of my arms. Then they came with that shroud. It was actually two parts and the flowers were in between the layers. And if you watched closely in the film, you can see the moment where I moved and rolled down on a mattress away from the podium. ‘My mother’ was cradling the shroud filled with flowers and modeled to look a bit like as if a human was wrapped in it. I crawled away – and it was a good thing, because I got some blood flow back in my arms again. They were a bit numb – and the adrenaline in my body caused by being lowered down like that – from that tall cross – I thought it took forever! Well that adrenaline helped too and I went ‘backstage’, got the cape on and went to the podium again. Banged the staff to let ‘my mother’ know I was ready – and that was the cue for Johanna too. I said ‘It is finished’ – and that was of course inspired of Jesus’ words on the cross.”

Michael got up on his feet and pretended to throw back a hood and said, “This was such a powerful moment! To do that and then shout, “It has just begun! And the idea is of course that Port Talbot would find the strength to rise against the ICU…. “

And then Michael smiled a bit wicked, ”Or would everything have been in vain?”

And he sat down, “We needed a powerful microphone for my ‘I remember’-part and for Di Botcher’s song for her dead son, so it was at the bottom of the cross and I didn’t really need it for my speech afterwards – but we did it to show that the real ‘reality’ had been restored. I was no longer acting – was not ‘The Teacher’ – but Michael Sheen. And we had so many big loudspeakers to distribute every syllable from me and every sigh and broken tone of Di Botcher’s song. It was…..touching and when I finally yelled my message, I think we all believed that we could walk on water. We had managed to do something no one had ever done: to engage a whole town in a play. So many – and we managed to show how many resources we had. Amazing. And I am so glad to hear that this is still growing. I am so proud of having been a part of planting that seed.”

We talked a bit more about a lot of things and then he had to leave.

I think that what we experienced that Easter in 2011 somehow was transcendent – we got a solid proof of true acting genius, Michael’s acting – and I have to admit that I am by now just as much a fan of Michael Sheen as my grandmother – and we got a glimpse of something more. I am not religious, but somehow I think that we got a bit of divine help that Easter.

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGBczC2_ydM  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lq2bsO_TtUE  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99b9C4POEIk&t=1241s  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sudfpsyYvvg  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWWw8QLG44E  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6olVrIqPsHI  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rx6BzGCmJDY  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vl-M6JV5o38  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Nw9TErpMf8  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igcPPvGItRA  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mbl_4VJxGG0  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8boQK3TRANQ  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iuQy0onkYE8  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4Y14kXUE44


End file.
